


The Details

by DigitalPopsicle



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Getting Together, Introspection, M/M, Mentions of injections, Mentions of surgery, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Reno, Trans Rufus Shinra, Turks notice a lot of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalPopsicle/pseuds/DigitalPopsicle
Summary: Rufus had an easy life for the most part, but that didn't mean he felt comfortable in his own skin. As much as he tries to hide it, his Turks notice. The Turks are trained to notice, after all.
Relationships: Reno/Rude/Rufus Shinra/Tseng, Reno/Rufus Shinra, Rude/Rufus Shinra, Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Kudos: 64





	The Details

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of projecting and also I just love Rufus being supported and loved by his Turks???

Somewhere in the family records it said that President Shinra had a daughter. She disappeared around the age of thirteen, never having been in the public eye much anyway, but there remained no public record of her ever existing. The President denied ever having a daughter, and with no wife or mother to confirm or deny the story either everything else was just credited to idle gossip and conspiracy theories.

President Shinra had always had a son named Rufus. Anyone who said otherwise was clearly wrong.

* * *

Sometimes clothes just simply didn’t sit right on him. No matter how much he adjusted his shirt, his waistcoat, his jacket, his pants, everything felt too tight or too loose or just not right.

Fidgeting wasn’t exactly the best thing to do when sitting in meetings or walking around the office. Rufus had to continue his air of someone in perfect control and authority, not be seen fussing with his clothes like an anxious schoolboy.

No one had noticed Rufus’ subtle adjusting of his clothes. No one had commented on it, none where the wiser as far as he knew. No one could know that the bottom layer of his fabric shield was skin tight and binding his chest. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary, but it didn’t mean that the young Shinra heir felt right.

Rude noticed. The Turks were trained to notice.

Rufus knew Rude had noticed when the tall stoic man raised a concerned eyebrow over the rim of his dark shades with a small inclination of his head. It was a silent question of ‘Are you alright?’, to which Rufus waved a dismissive hand. Only minutes later he fussed with the cuff of his shirt sleeve whilst reading over the papers for the next meeting.

As silently as ever, Rude strode over to the other’s chair from his position as door guard. Rufus frowned up at him, opening his mouth to ask what he was doing before the man nudged his shoulders with gloved hands, deftly adjusting the shirt and waistcoat without even grazing over the straps underneath. With a final adjustment to the shirt’s collar, Rude stepped back and slowly made his way back to the door.

Again, the vice president opened his mouth to berate the man for touching him without permission before a feeling stopped him in his tracks. He rolled his shoulders, feeling his clothes settle on him much more comfortably than before.

Rude made no comment so neither did Rufus, not even sparing words to admonish the man because it was the most relaxed he’d felt all day.

He had to smile a little to himself, not noticing that Rude did the same from his stance by the office door.

* * *

Being under house arrest was proving to make a lot of things difficult. Rufus felt cabin fever after the first week, unable to move around outside of the safe house without being closely guarded or able to travel too far.

One rather large annoyance came from the fact that his monthly ‘medication’ couldn’t be administered in his current location. He’d tried arguing that surely he could travel for a medical reason, but no one wanted to take the risk of someone catching him during transit or worse managing to infiltrate the medical facility.

So Rufus was stuck with a building anxiety in his chest as the monthly date of his injection came and went. It wasn’t as if things suddenly spiralled out of control or changed dramatically with the missed date. Rufus simply was too keenly aware of what was going on and felt uncomfortable in his own skin as a result.

He tried not to let anyone in on his mental state of being, keeping his feelings closely guarded and as far as anyone knew it was business as usual. Rufus was annoyed at being cooped up but still had work to do.

Tseng noticed. The Turks were trained to notice.

It was the evening, Rufus was dressed down but not quite ready for bed. Tseng had simply entered the room, sharply asked the guard to leave as he was taking over the duties of watching the vice president, and only once the two were alone did he walk over to the table closest to where Rufus was sitting to open up a briefcase that the vice president had never seen in Tseng’s possession before.

The case had some rather secure locks. Tseng tapped in a code on a small digital pad near the handle, then a small key was procured from his pocket to unclip the locks. Rufus didn’t know what he expected in such a small case with such high security but three vials of liquid and a syringe certainly wasn’t on top of the list.

In fact, the vials looked very familiar to him. When he managed to read the label, Rufus frowned up at Tseng, opening his mouth to say something but he was quickly cut off by the man’s clipped statement.

“The details of who picked this up and who it is prescribed are off the record. I know how to administer this. So… thigh, or rear?” An elegant eyebrow was raised in question, almost challenging Rufus’ authority.

The need to quell his anxiety won out over his pride and the young heir responded, “Thigh.”

Tseng was surprisingly gentle with the needle. He didn’t think he’d even had such painless treatment from the medical professionals who were paid to administer it.

That night he slept soundly, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. He didn’t notice Tseng with the same expression as he stood guard over him.

* * *

Any member of Shinra going for any kind of surgery was risky. They all knew people were out to get them in more ways than one. Whilst they had trusted doctors and surgeons on their payroll there was always even the slightest chance of something going wrong.

As such any serious procedures were kept as quiet as possible. Heidigger being shot, the President’s heart, and now Rufus himself was to go under the knife.

He wasn’t worried about the operation. In fact Rufus was relieved to be having it in the first place as it had taken much wrestling with his father as well as a long time trying to find a surgeon capable of getting the results he wanted with the right level of trust.

Even so, a seed of concern was burrowing into Rufus’ mind, and as he sat in the car on the way to the hospital his leg bounced lightly, anxiously, barely noticeable beyond the soft tap of his heel on the carpet.

Reno noticed. The Turks were trained to notice.

Slouching in the seat next to Rufus in the back of the car, Reno’s eyes flicked from the other’s bouncing leg to his face, devoid of any outward expression of any concern. Rufus caught him and frowned back at him as if daring him to ask any questions. It was just another indication of his concerns as usually Rufus would’ve responded with a smug quip or insult to the redhead, as per their usual routine.

“She’s a good doc, y’know.” Reno eventually said, casually turning his gaze outside of the tinted windows at the passing buildings instead. “Been in the business for a decade or so.”

“Still a rather short time for a doctor, considering others on the Shinra payroll.” Rufus responded with a slight roll of his eyes, the statement doing nothing to douse the embers of nervousness.

“I don’t mean medical stuff. I mean this kinda stuff.” Reno’s shirt was barely buttoned up, revealing the smooth pale expanse of his chest, but he pulled it aside even further to reveal more. With the fabric out of the way, a light curved scar trailing under his defined pectoral muscle could be seen, along with the faintest of lines connecting the scar to his nipple.

Rufus’ eyes widened slightly, looking from the scar to Reno’s face, but the redhead was still looking out of the window as he casually closed his shirt back up.

“She’s real good, so you don’t need to worry much. She’ll do a good job and keep her mouth shut.” This time Reno turned to give him a wide grin.

He couldn’t help the smile on his face, laughing softly and feeling the tension ebb from his shoulders.

* * *

He didn’t know how they got there, what was the catalyst to them being in the position they were in, but Rufus certainly wasn’t complaining.

The vice president was languidly sprawled between Tseng’s legs, leaning back against the man’s bare chest. Rude sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Tseng, pressed close and intimate, with Reno in his lap using his thigh as a pillow. Rufu’s legs were tangled with the redhead’s, and all four of them were comfortably nude in the luxurious hotel room they’d secretly managed to book for them.

Reno was quiet for once, half dozing as Rude carded his fingers through his loose hair. Tseng rested his head against Rude’s, trailing gentle patterns across Rufus’ chest as his arms draped loosely around him.

The Turks were trained to notice details.

Rude had noticed the specific looks Rufus gave the three of them. Tseng noticed the way Rufus would call on only the three of them when it came to bodyguards. Reno noticed the way Rufus actually touched them instead of avoiding them like he did everyone else.

But everything else after that was a haze. Rufus didn’t care. Nestled between the three he trusted the most, both with his safety and his well being, put him truly at ease.

A smile played on his lips as his eyes drifted closed, feeling Reno reach out and lace their fingers together, feeling Tseng’s grip on him tighten just briefly, feeling Rude rest his hand on his thigh and squeeze softly.


End file.
